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by Kailey_Hamilton



Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Consensual Sex, Digimon Adventure: Last Evolution Kizuna Spoilers, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Reconciliation Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25021375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kailey_Hamilton/pseuds/Kailey_Hamilton
Summary: Yamato is the only friend Sora has that can help her now - too bad they broke up four years ago, and she's still in love with him.
Relationships: Ishida Yamato | Matt Ishida/Takenouchi Sora
Comments: 8
Kudos: 35





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**Author's Note:**

  * For [ayuminb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ayuminb/gifts).



> _I've had the idea of reconciliation tied with the events of Kizuna for a while, but then it was my friend **ayuminb** 's birthday and the smut made it happen. L, you're the queen of Sorato smut, after all, so how could I not?_
> 
> _As the warnings already imply, this contains non-explicit references to underage sex and spoilers for Kizuna._

Sora was in a dangerous situation.

True, Yamato was still her friend. He had always been. But he was also the ex-boyfriend that she still had feelings for. The one who got away four years prior. It was a terrible idea to come to him when she felt this lonely. What other option did she have, though? If there was one person in the world that could share her grief, that was Yamato. It wasn't every day that one lost their Digimon partner without warning, without mercy, and had to deal with the aftermath. She'd tried her best friend, but Taichi had his own methods. Meanwhile, Yamato understood hers. He understood her.

And Sora... well, Sora was painfully, acutely lonely. Even when Piyomon wasn't with her, she had always felt her presence. She could still feel it, but nothing came to her when she reached out. It was oppressive, and terrifying, and time hadn't started to heal her yet. If anything, time was making things worse.

That's why, in a moment of desperation, she'd called him. That's why she was there. Yamato had let her in without question, offered her tea, and pointedly stood opposite the only sofa in his studio apartment, the sofa Sora was occupying. It was almost as if he was afraid to come near her. Sora couldn't find the words.

"I don't believe you're here because you were just passing through."

The words were cutting, but they weren't unkind. Yamato wasn't one for roundabouts and unnecessary pleasantries, especially not with the people he trusted the most. With him, Sora could feel free to get to the point.

"I miss her," she said. Then she frowned. With Yamato's apartment so painfully bare, she could place exactly how she misspoke. "I miss them."

Yamato's expression softened.

"I miss them too."

Sora lowered her gaze.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"I'm glad you did."

Her eyes found his again, his expression still warm, but otherwise impossible to interpret. He chose his moment to come over to Sora, sitting beside her at a distance that felt too vast in how appropriate it was. It was still too hard to speak, though. She couldn't tell him everything she knew him to be feeling, so she did what she did best.

"How are you coping?" she asked.

As an answer, he nodded toward the corner where he kept his work station. On it, Sora could see open notebooks, piles of textbooks and an empty mug. A guitar was leaning against the desk, and above it, on the wall, there was a calendar with several dates marked.

Sora caught his meaning. She, too, was usually good at keeping herself busy to avoid an unpleasant reality. But her eyes stayed fixed on the calendar, one she knew too well. Yamato preferred his smartphone, and only used the calendar because it had been a gift from his friends. Taichi had often joked that Yamato should get one of those Harley Davidson calendars with the gorgeous models in them. For Yamato's last birthday, Takeru jokingly suggested the idea to produce their own motorcycle calendar featuring their twelve Digimon, and the joke suddenly snowballed into a reality that took all their combined talents to pull off. They'd even gotten Gabumon on the page for November, the month of Yamato's birthday.

"I'm never throwing that out. Especially now..." Yamato had noticed the direction of her gaze, but then his eyes returned to her, his wistful smile turning into a frown. "How are you coping, Sora? How... how are you?"

The question caught Sora off guard, and the obvious concern made her want to cry.

"I'm...not." She shook her head. "I'm not."

"Sora..." Yamato was almost pleading. "You're not alone either."

He was being kind, but it felt like a knife to her chest. She'd wanted this kindness, and yet, this was bad enough without wishing Yamato would hold her close, kiss her, and ask her to stay the night. It didn't help that he was wearing comfortable clothes, as if she were a welcome, trusted guest into the privacy of his own home. It didn't help that he looked so good in them.

"I know I'm not alone," she said carefully. "That's why I'm here."

"I'm glad you reached out. I was fearing I'd never see you again."

She huffed.

"You're being dramatic."

"I mean it, though. You've been so busy at your mother's school that—"

A knot tightened in Sora's chest. There it was. It had to come to this eventually. A blush crept up Yamato's cheeks, who had obviously noticed her discomfort. He opened his mouth to say something else, but she cut him off. But if she didn't breach it now, she would never do it.

"I'm no longer apprenticing under my mother." Yamato's shocked face was all the response she got, and she couldn't bear it, so she turned away. Sora didn't need to hear him say it, so she said it first. "You were right, in the end. It was never for me. And now that Piyomon is—" she caught herself, her heart heavy. "I cannot do this anymore."

It was the first time they'd brought up their break-up fight in four years. It had been ugly, and shameful. They had never screamed at each other before that day, but the subject of Sora's choices for her future had been discussed ten times too many so she got impatient, and he was pleading with her that she'd never really wanted this, and exasperation turned into the biggest fight of their lives, until she said the one thing that ruined it all.

If you can't support me on this, we're through.

And so, they were through. There was crying on her end and repressed anger on his, and the agreement to tell the others it was an amicable break-up didn't feel so agreeable. But it was mutual, after all. They had to accept their diverging paths with grace, so they did their best, and it worked out. The initial post-breakup awkwardness subsided with time. At the beginning, it had almost been freeing. She didn't have to show up to all of his gigs, make time for him every weekend, or communicate constantly... But then again, she liked going to his gigs, and she'd missed him all those lost weekends. And they still wrote to each other almost every day.

Four years later, it was still raw. And judging by Yamato's expression, she wasn't the only one who felt that.

"Sora, I..." He hesitated for a second, but when he spoke again, he sounded more self-assured. "I was wrong back then. I'm sorry."

It was her turn to be surprised. Sora was expecting him to ask about her future plans, to sidestep yet another painful subject. But suddenly, this was about them. Only about them. Sora couldn't remember the last time they were alone together, without even the Digimon around. That way, it had been too easy to believe this chapter was closed when nothing was forcing her to read it. But now it was too late to pretend everything was fine.

"I'm so sorry, too, Yamato, I..."

"No. I mean, yes, we both—but I—" He cleared his throat. "I should have supported you, even if I thought you were making a mistake. And I should have apologized before, but I feared it would be unwelcome. I'm sorry. I really am."

Sora could feel the weight of his gaze on her, but she didn't move. She hadn't realized how much she'd needed this apology. After the break-up, she couldn't stay resentful for long. She'd forgiven him long ago. But hearing him admit his faults was still a relief. So she could finally bear to face him again.

"Thank you, Yamato." She offered him a soft smile. "I should've listened to you, though. You saw what I couldn't see."

"Was it all that bad?" It was a genuine question. Sora had to think about it, but then she shook her head. "You did seem happy for a while. I thought that if you had done something else, you would have never known that happiness. And you might have hated me for it. That is to say..." His voice broke. He scratched the back of his head, then went on. "I don't think it was a mistake, Sora. If it was a mistake, it was one you had to make. And I should have been there for you."

The regret in his voice was painful. It sent Sora's mind flying in all directions, down all of those roads she never dared to tread. She'd always been good at reading him when she wanted to. For the last few years, she'd refused to. But just then... just then, his walls were down. It was impossible not to see... not to wish...

Had Sora been in a better state of mind, she would have stopped herself. Right then, she didn't have the strength, or the caution. She was tired of hiding.

"I still regret pushing you away."

This, too, Yamato could find a way around. He could tell Sora it was fine and she'd done nothing wrong. He could pretend he didn't understand that she was still deeply, shamefully in love with him. But his breath caught, and for a long second, he said nothing.

"Do you...?" He bit his lip. Sora's heart was pounding so hard she was sure Yamato could hear it. "I never stopped loving you, Sora. I... If you want, that is, I want to... I want to give us another chance. It doesn't have to be now, if it's not the right time. It can be... if you need more time..."

Yamato trailed off, and looked away. The blush on his cheeks had deepened. He seemed so angry at himself for his embarrassment that Sora's already heightened senses were sent into overdrive. There he was, telling her what she'd been wishing to hear, and absolutely being himself while at it. So unapologetically himself, too, that Sora could have never even resisted even if she'd wanted to.

"I don't need more time."

That was enough for Yamato. His shoulders fell in relief as a smile lit up his face. Sora could've sworn he outshone the sun. It made her smile, too, but then a small, nervous laugh escaped her.

"This is not what I had in mind when I came over," she admitted.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know. I feel like I'm going insane, and you could always keep me from spiraling too deep. I just... I needed to be with you."

Her words struck Yamato. He shifted, taken aback, his mouth open far before any words could come out.

"I don't want to do this alone either," he finally said. "I don't want to do this without you."

Sora swallowed. There was that awkwardness about him, that feeling of not knowing what to do with his hands, or with himself... it emboldened her. Yamato wouldn't force contact on her when she was so upset, but his unsure stance told her that he wanted it as much as she did. With this in mind, she didn't hesitate in scooting closer and letting her arm fall on the headrest behind him.

Yamato's arms were wrapped around her in an instant. Everything that was weighing down on her no longer felt so heavy. She let her head fall on his shoulder, breathing him in, and the tears she didn't know she'd been holding back were now flowing freely. He didn't pay it any mind until her stilted breathing gave her away, and he pulled back to look at her.

"I'm sorry." She said, wiping her eyes, smiling in a way she knew to be unconvincing. "It's just been... too much."

"It's alright." His hands had dropped to her waist, refusing to let go of her. "Feeling better?"

She nodded, and leaned back into his arms. Just like that, it was like no time had passed between them. The closeness, the intimacy, it all came back to her with alarming speed. Her short crying session had been soothing, and she was ready to seize this moment with her two hands. She could be sad again later.

"I can't believe it's been four years," she said.

"It feels like forever."

"In a way, yes... but it feels like nothing changed at all."

"It did," he contradicted her with confidence. "We've grown. We've learned. This time, we know how to make this work."

"No screaming, then. Or doubting each other."

Yamato laughed softly, sending chills down her spine.

"It's a promise."

They stayed like that for a few more seconds, enjoying the closeness. But Sora wanted more. Yamato's arms were safe, he was so warm, and he smelled so good that she couldn't stop herself. She only had to raise herself a little to get herself a kiss - so she did.

Her lips found his without trouble, and her heart exploded when he immediately kissed her back, as if he had been expecting, hoping for this already. He was tender, but intense, just as she remembered. It felt like home. She'd missed him so much, too much, and it was driving her insane even as she didn't have to long for him anymore.

Having his soft, pliant lips against hers was igniting a fire within her. Their kisses grew desperate, bold in their familiarity. Their hands were no longer cautious. Sora's were tangled in his hair, traveling up and down his back, and Yamato was pressing her against him with a resolve that almost took her aback. It was impossible to miss how Yamato's body was reacting to this kiss. He'd always been easy to ignite, but she hadn't expected to be thrown back into that whirlwind so quickly and she wasn't expecting to crave it so desperately.

His teeth dragged on her lip, maddeningly restrained. At the same time, his hand dropped down, brushing her bare knee. The contact against her skin made her gasp, and his hand, stayed there for a second before going back to her waist. No. She couldn't have that. His featherlight touch had made her wish that his long fingers would trace their way up her leg, straight to where she was starting to burn. And that's how she knew that she was too far gone. She wasn't supposed to want reconciliation sex with her long-time ex-boyfriend. She wasn't supposed to moan so wantonly between kisses and brazenly open her legs for him, silently begging him to slip his hands under her skirt and inside—

Yamato froze. For a split second, Sora feared she'd gone too far, too fast... but he was disheveled, eyes blazing, voice hoarse and tense.

"Are you sure about this?"

Sora had come to terms with the fact that sex was yet another way in which she failed to meet societal expectations. She wasn't supposed to have it, or even want it. But she did, far more constantly than she was willing to admit to anyone. Back when they were dating, Yamato had worked against her feelings of shame to the point where she could no longer deny herself. And right then, when she was so full of raw emotion and pent-up desire, denying herself was not an option. She wanted Yamato all around her, and she wanted not to feel this heartache anymore.

"Yes. Please."

That was all the encouragement Yamato needed. His hand went up her leg exactly the way she wanted it too, hot and heavy and leaving a trail of fire. His mouth was now on her neck, nipping and sucking on her blazing skin just carefully enough not to bruise her. She let out a whimper when his fingers finally reached between her legs, above the fabric of her underwear. She moaned, encouraging, dropping her hands and twisting around so she could open her legs wider.

He was looking at her intently, no doubt absorbing the sinful image she presented. He reveled in her whimpers every time he pressed or caressed just the right spot - but he never stayed there for long, and the fabric between them was only making her more desperate.

"You're so beautiful," he said.

But before she could answer, he was in contact with her hot, wet skin. His eyes widened, and even Sora was surprised at how easily his fingers slipped around, making her gasp, her body shocked awake. Fuck. She was so ready. She had been ready for four years. And Yamato... Yamato was absolutely gorgeous. He always had that piercing look in his eyes that never failed to make her legs feel weak, but right then, with his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly parted, he looked obscenely divine.

After running his finger lazily up and down a few times, he slowly pushed it inside her. She was holding her breath, trying to hold on to every single second of this - but once inside her, he curled his finger just so. She cried in delight, and then again when his thumb pressed on her clit, working her in a slow rhythm that was threatening to drive her insane. His other arm was around her shoulders, giving them both balance and pulling her closer to him so he could go back to kissing her neck. The steady pace was sending her one jolt of pleasure after another up and down her spine, finding place in her belly and curling up onto itself, more tense with each passing second.

But Yamato had other plans. He removed his hand, but Sora didn't have time to protest before he knelt in the floor in front of her, a questioning look in his eye. She nodded without thinking, and his grin widened into a hungry expression that made her throat tighten. She'd never let him do this while they were dating. She'd wanted it so, so badly, but that was one source of shame she could never quite let go of, and it became another regret. More than once she'd tried to imagine how Yamato's tongue would feel as it brushed against her most sensitive areas, and every time, she'd blushed and pushed the thought away.

There was no need for that now.

While she got used to the idea, Yamato yanked down her underwear. It was the hottest thing she'd ever seen - Yamato, down on his knees, his face between her legs and eager to please. She watched in awe as his tongue reached out tentatively, barely touching her already stimulated clit. She squirmed. He did it again, this time more slowly and firmly. This felt good. Too good. His smug, glinting eyes were locked on hers, as he kissed all around her most sensitive areas, everywhere except where she needed him the most. He teased her exposed skin as if he had all the time in the world. It felt like heaven, but he was still refusing to give her the relief she—

The air was forced out of her lungs when Yamato's lips latched onto her clit, sucking it with the same sort of leisurely care he'd been giving her so far. Fuck. It was nothing like she'd imagined and everything she'd wanted. She couldn't keep up. His tongue and lips were doing wonders, sucking, licking faster, and faster, until Sora was a gasping, moaning mess, grabbing locks of his hair and pulling him closer against her.

Without warning, he buried a finger inside her. Her head fell back, eyes closed shut. This overstimulation short-circuited her senses and sent her whole world spinning. Yamato didn't slow down, didn't let up, and once again Sora found herself reaching for paradise, hoping for release from this delicious torture.

"Yamato..." she breathed out. "Yamato, please..."

That's when he stopped. Her eyes flew open.

Sora knew his game. Yamato had always loved bringing her to the brink of an orgasm and no further time and time again, until she was sufficiently wound up and could no longer keep a hold on herself. She'd always trusted him to deliver, so she only sighed in frustration, a frustration that was short-lived as she watched him wipe his mouth with his sleeve. Her heart stopped. Fuck, that was hot. All she wanted was to push him to the floor and ride him to oblivion right then and there.

Yamato, however, always put up a fight. He always had a trick up his sleeve. He stood up, his arms now underneath her and lifting her from the sofa. He carried her bridal style the few steps to his bed. He didn't quite lay her down, but didn't quite let her fall - somewhere between gentle and desperate, considerate and wild, and the second she touched down he was already on top of her, kissing her fiercely, his hands all over her body, trying to reach as much as he could.

Sora was reeling. Yamato's weight on her was numbing her good sense. She wanted to touch his naked body and feel his burning skin pressed against hers so badly that her hands found themselves under his clothes on their own accord, sliding up and down his back, grabbing his ass, pressing him firmly against her, pulling, tugging on the fabric as if that would make it come off.

Yamato's kisses grew hotter, deeper, until he broke apart for a second. Sora was hypnotized by the sight of him sitting up and taking off his shirt. She let her fingers catch on his waistband and pull down resolutely. When they were dating, their uniforms rarely came off, both of them too conscious of the fact they could be interrupted at any second. Right then, they had no such worries. Yamato shifted to allow her to take off his pants, but Sora was greedier than that, hooking her fingers on his underwear as well. Everything came off, and just like that, Yamato was stark naked on top of her.

Sora was gaping. Yamato's arms were defined and his chest strong. He was fully erect, clearly yearning to take her, and her need was so overpowering that she almost missed the ravenous look in his eyes. And she couldn't handle it. She slid one of her hands against his chest and her other hand found him, hard and ready, and she was starting to return the pleasure he'd just granted her, when he pulled away carefully, as if it cost him his life. His voice was dangerously uneven when he spoke.

"I want you, Sora. Now."

He didn't need to say it twice. She felt herself almost aching with anticipation as he positioned himself between her legs... but he didn't enter her. He was instead grinding against her, basking in just how wet she was for him, this friction seemingly enough for him. Sora gave him a pleading look that made him smirk.

"You're not playing fair." He said. His hands slid up her legs, grabbed her ass, then continued their way up under her dress. He was lifting the fabric as he went, still rolling his hips against hers when he reached her breasts, at which point Sora had to lift herself up to allow him to pull her dress off. His arms caught her on her way back down, his long fingers finding the clasp of her bra and undoing it in an instant.

Only then did Sora lay back down, this last piece of cloth disposed of as she did. He tossed it aside, never taking his eyes off of her.

"Much better."

Sora had to agree. After all this teasing, her nipples were reacting to the slight change of temperature and the feeling of freedom. Yamato brushed his fingers against them, sending chills down Sora's spine. Then he squeezed them softly before leaning down to catch a hard nipple in his mouth. She let out a surprised breath. Yamato's warm tongue drew circles on her skin, his teeth dragging gently against it, alternating this attention between her breasts. And then he was grinding faster, still outside her, his breath heavy with pleasure against her sensitive skin. Sora couldn't take it. Her muscles were itching for relief and this throbbing emptiness was almost painful.

"I thought you wanted me now," she complained between moans. She was in paradise, but her body still screamed for him. This was not enough. It was maddening.

"And I'm having you, am I not?" Yamato barely lifted his head as he said this. Her head rolled back when his mouth found her nipple again, this time sucking hard.

Now Sora was moving too.

"Yamato, please... I want... I need..."

And then, only then, then he pushed in.

He went in slowly, allowing for the long-forgotten sensation of fullness to wash over her. It was almost enough to make Sora finish. She was expecting some discomfort after all this time, but her body was too worked up, so she wrapped her legs around him to pull him deeper into her without care. They both gasped. She could almost, almost taste the kind of pleasure that she needed. She rolled her hips once, twice, making him shudder.

"Fuck, Sora..."

He shifted, leaning back to kneel between her legs, the sudden movement sending a wave of pleasure through her. Her ankles locked behind his back as he started moving, his thrusts shallow and tentative at first, but he gradually pushed longer and harder until she felt him just right, just in the precise way that made her lose control of herself.

"There."

And then it was chaos, and bliss, and everything she had been so desperately craving. Yamato was moving inside her with a delirious abandon that paralyzed her, the pleasure spreading to every inch of her body. She was being stretched and fulfilled and spread thin, and her control over her actions was slipping away fast. Yamato was grabbing her legs, clutching her as his own pleasure grew. She wanted to touch him, too, so she reached for him. However, he wouldn't come to her, so she tightened the hold of her legs.

"Come here," she panted.

"I want to see you." His hoarse voice, also tinged with pleasure, only made her more desperate.

"I want—" The thought was disjointed. What did she want?

More. She just wanted more.

"Please, Sora."

She couldn't deny him anything, so watch her he did. Sweat covered her body, her face felt hot, and her breasts bounced in time with his thrusts. There was no point in feeling self-conscious around Yamato. Instead, Sora felt wanted, desired, needed, and it only made her own lust grow tenfold. He was also a glorious sight, his blonde hair in disarray and his muscles flexing with the exertion.

This was too much, not enough, and the tension inside her was both growing and begging for freedom. Her legs fell to the bed, open as wide as she could, allowing her to touch herself without shame. His hand quickly replaced hers, circling her clit in time with his thrusts. Yamato was going in deeper now that he could move more freely, hitting that sweet spot within her again, and again, and again, with enough power to make Sora scream for him.

"You said no screaming...?"

Incoherent sounds were being drawn out of her, and it was hard to answer among them.

"Idiot."

And the cheeky grin he gave her in return was everything. It was all she could do not to come undone then and there, the sensations hitting her one after another too fast to process. She was rushing toward her breaking point and she could focus on little else beyond it. Her eyes clamped shut. She was all rapture and burning skin and he sensed it, his pace quick, wild, constant, his fingers also working on her without reprieve. All she could do was whimper, grab the bed sheets tight in her fists, and beg for mercy.

"Yamato..." She was repeating his name, over and over. It was the only thing she knew. It was the only thing she wanted to know. "Yamato, I'm..."

She screamed. Her body flared up in an orgasm so long-awaited, earth-shattering and mind-numbing that it hurt. Electrifying waves of pleasure took over her body, and she was pulsing, trembling, screaming, out of breath and gratified beyond all reason. Her muscles contracted firmly around him, heightening her pleasure and making him throw his head back in ecstasy.

Yamato slowed down as she came, but once her body relaxed, he started pounding into her and pinching her clit more fiercely than before. Sora didn't have time to recover. She was being wound tighter again all at once, as if the coil within her had never subsided, and Yamato was close, so close, grunting, panting, his eyes closed and skin flushed. But Sora couldn't do anything other than enjoy the sight and let him do her in, until he pulled out so swiftly that she was thrown over the edge a second time. He started shaking, finishing into his own hand with a drawn-out grunt while Sora also twisted underneath him.

For that instant, time stood still, and nothing was wrong with the world.

They were both sweating, gasping for air, thoroughly satisfied and drunk with pure joy. She was only aware of Yamato moving away, reaching toward his nightstand's drawer to pull out wet wipes. Her eyebrows shot up, and that's what Yamato saw when he looked back at her.

"Don't ask."

"I don't have to."

He turned away as a response, sitting down beside her as he cleaned himself up. She marveled at how he could be so bashful after what they'd done, and the thought made her laugh. This was Yamato. Her Yamato. The one she'd been yearning for and she was never going to let go of again.

"What's so funny?" he asked, but his voice lacked any bite. She took him in, his hair messy and humid from the sweat, his skin almost shimmering. Being that stunning should be illegal.

"Nothing," she answered truthfully. "I'm just happy."

Yamato offered her a sweet smile, then walked away to throw the wipes in the nearest trash can. This gave her a full view of his perfect body. After what they'd just done, she would've hoped her desires would've gone back to where she kept them locked up - but there they were, alive and present, and if she had to be honest with herself, she was ready for this new normal.

This new normal was better than the old normal, where she had to endure her pain with her aching heart alone. No, she wasn't happy. Not yet. But she would be, and it was easier when Yamato was next to her. It hadn't escaped her notice that he'd barely let her touch him. He'd been focused on her, wanting to make her feel the best that he could... It was a good thing, then, that Sora knew for a fact there would be a next time.

Yamato caught her staring, but she didn't look away. He just stood there for a second, seeming puzzled at her expression, then asked,

"You don't... you don't regret this, do you, Sora?"

"Not at all," she answered quickly. "Do you?"

Yamato came back to her, lying down and wrapping his arms around her. That was all the response he was going to offer, and that was all she needed. She adjusted her position to be able to hold him too, and kissed him without thinking. He responded in kind, his lips soft and tender. His body against hers was like an oasis in the desert. Suddenly, it was very easy to show patience, and all she wanted was to live in the sheer bliss of this moment for as long as she could. They were together. That's all that mattered. This way, they could pull through anything.

But the moment was over eventually. Yamato broke the kiss, touching his forehead against hers, and gave her his boldest grin.

"So... what do you say we take it slow?"


End file.
